


Coming Home in Pieces

by godofpancakes (Vera_DragonMuse)



Series: Dinerverse [9]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M, Marriage, Revelations, Tattoos, home coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/godofpancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reluctantly, Loki returns to Asgard. It's nothing like he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home in Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was the first half of a much longer fic, but after some thought I'm splitting it up. Partially so you won't think I've abandoned you my dear and wonderful readers! Also because otherwise this would have to wait for several other fics I've got cooking. 
> 
> If you've got tumblr and don't mind reblogging of Avengers pics, you can find my writing updates on my tumblr: dragonmuse.tumblr.com/

“What about your armor?” Thor asked, eyes wide in hopeful pleading.

“Ruined in the fall.” Loki grinned, manic and jagged. “Even if it wasn’t, this is what I am now. I’m not going backwards for them.” 

“I cannot imagine it will ease your passage.” 

“Yeah, well. What would, really?”

Loki smoothed a hand down the soft pale lavender of the silk button down, leaving it untucked over the dark wash jeans and studded belt. His toes wiggled in his well used Doc Martins. With a few careful folds, the arms of the shirt tucked up over his elbow, exposing the marriage tattoo and the ends of the outermost branches of Yggdrasil. He ran a brush through his hair, before tying it neatly back. The silver gleam of his piercings pleased him and he ran a gentle finger over his ear, straightening the sharp points. In the mirror, he could see Thor’s eyes raking over him with clear desire despite his protests. 

“I’m ready.” He sighed, turning slowly.

“Good.” Thor took one of Loki’s shaking hands and brushed a tender kiss over clenched knuckles. “It’s long past time.”

Their goodbyes had already been said, but Loki stopped in the door of Darcy’s room anyway. She was still asleep in the predawn light, a sheet pulled up over her face. He went in and leaned down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Come back soon.” She muttered, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

“You got it.” He whispered, tiptoeing out.

Jane waited outside in the van. She slid her arm around Loki’s shoulders even as she peppered Thor with questions about the Bifrost. Loki listened to them talk and tried to think of nothing as the desert rolled past the windows. He wanted desperately to go back, climb into their bed and start the day over. The smell of Jane’s coffee brought bile to his throat and soured his stomach. 

“You come back soon, ok?” Jane swallowed hard around her words as the van pulled to a stop.

“I will.” He promised, reaching across the seats for her. They hugged hard and long, the fragile bones of their mortal bodies creaking in protest. When he came back, he would have to take more care, give his affections with intense gentleness to keep from crushing her. The acid in his stomach surged again. “Don’t get the Nobel without me.” 

She pushed him gently out, before she could start sniffling in earnest.

“You will see them again.” Thor said quietly as the van pulled away. “It’s not the end.”

“But it is. The end of my mortal life. I’ll come back changed.”

Thor had no reply. He lifted his hammer and called out to Heimdell. The words echoed in the vast desert, sparking up towards the sunrise. They stood, a man and a god, frozen for a single moment and then the bridge swallowed them up, leaving the desert empty once more.

Heimdell did not stir as they landed neatly in front of him. Loki let out a long shuddering breath and resisted the urge to cling to Thor like a child.

“Hail, Heimdell.” Thor smiled. “How runs the universe?”

“Thor, Prince of Asgard. Welcome home.” Heimdell intoned. “You bring with you one who has been sent from this place.”

“Loki Odinson was exiled.” Loki squared his shoulders. “I am only a humble mortal, call me Jack if it pleases you.”

“You are always Loki in any guise.” Heimdell turned to gaze sightlessly in another direction. “You are not meant to return here.”

“I will take charge of him.” A woman’s voice rang out. 

“My Lady. Even you cannot overrule the word of Odin King.” 

Frigga stepped deeper into the dome, eyes fire bright. Under the fall of her white robes, her stomach bulged with child. Loki glanced at Thor, ready with anger, but Thor’s face described equal ignorance. 

“Normally so, Watcher, but the King is traveling far today and in his absence, I speak for him.”

“As you say.” The Watcher turned again, apparently done with the lot of them.

Quiet descended for a long, painful moment. Frigga stared at Loki, fingers caught in her robes as if she might sweep them up and run at any moment.

“My son.” Her voice hoarse with repressed sobs. “I have missed you beyond measure.”

The she spread her arms wide and Loki couldn’t fight the rush of tender affection that washed over him. He ran to her and accepted the warmth of her embrace. They rocked together, her apologies flowing over him like a healing rain.

“I love you.” She whispered, tightening her grip. “My dear wild boy.”

“I was so angry.” He told her, their words overlapping, intermingling. “Why, Mother?”

“Because I was foolish and you made yourself an enigma to me.” She clutched as his shoulders. “I feared what you were becoming, but I was wrong.” 

The roundness of her stomach pressed into him, a shocking wave of cold emanating outwards. He dropped a hand to the curve, the swift movement of a restless babe rose to meet him. 

“What have you done?” His eyes widened. “Mother...what is this?”

“I borrowed something from you.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “You should have it back.”

A blue light pulsed under her gown, coalescing into a throbbing pinpoint. It traveled up her body and she coughed daintily into her free hand. A sphere of ice levitated above her palm. It called to him, screamed to the locked cage of his magic until he was breathless with want.

“Take it.” She held it up to him.

“It’s time, Loki.” Thor’s hand slid warm over his shoulder.

“I know.” He reached out and cupped his hand around the light. It surged forward, raging over his body like a wildfire, crippling him in exquisite agony. His scream echoed through the Bifrost. The pale skin of his hands gave way to blue and his eyes opened the red of blood.

“So it is true.” He laughed, empty and mirthless. “I had hoped... Jotun born.”

“But Aesir raised.” Frigga touched his hand and the milky white of her skin bespelled his own until it rippled back to a more familiar shade. “No less our son for it, no matter what your father may believe.”

“No less my husband.” Thor repeated, coaxing Loki back to his feet. “Do you feel different?”

“Ask me again in a few hours.” Loki flexed his hand, the crackle of strength and potential returned. He channeled his breath over his fingertips, coaxing up a flame. It danced painfully over the tips of his fingers. “That...oh, I have missed that so very much.”

Inside his mother, the baby called to him. Power returned, he could hear a thin reedy voice clearly, forming a wordless greeting.

“I can hear him.” He reached out, putting his hand to his mother’s belly. A sweet song filled his ears, lingered warm and welcoming over his hand. “What have you done?”

“I longed for another child. My boys were gone from me.” She covered his hand with her own. “But I could not take any child of Odin born. So I quickened one with my own strength and borrowed magic.”

“This baby will be half-Jotun.” Loki swallowed hard. “Mother, how could you?”

“How could I not?” She patted his hand gently where it rested against her. “Balder is a good baby and he will have you to guide him in the ways of magic.”

“Balder...I had a vision of him.” Loki closed his eyes tight against the images, but they returned on him. “I murdered him.”

“Loki, son of mine, don’t be foolish.” She laughed and he could not fight a smile in return. “Trickster child, you have a way of escaping prophecy.”

“How would you know?” He snarled then winced, already regretting it.

“Because I’ve walked through one of your visions, your dreams.” She stroked a hand over the left side of his face. “Not intentionally, so don’t be angry. Only that I drifted from myself.”

“I’m not angry.” He couldn’t be angry. There was no room left for another feeling, another thought. It was all too much too quickly. “What did you see?”

“A wolf, a snake and a woman balancing between life and death.” She smiled faintly. “I sang to them.”

“Oh.” Loki bit the inside of cheek, the bright spark of pain keeping him close. “And after that...”

“I finished your marriage tapestry.” She smiled at Thor over Loki’s shoulder. “And breathed life again.”

“My children worked their magic on you then.” Loki laughed, broken and weighed. “They choose not to be born, but they would not stand not to leave their mark. They are very much mine.”

“The Norn will play their jokes.” Thor’s hand caressed the nap of Loki’s neck. “We cannot worry ourselves about it. Come, there is much to be done.”

The familiar beauty of Asgard’s palaces rising in front of him soothed Loki’s troubled heart. His mother held his hand and his husband walked at his side. Magic coursed through him like the finest drug and most willing companion. He returned to Asgard not in defeat, but triumph.

It was Sif who came to greet them at the palace doors. She looked over Loki dispassionately, turning to Frigga with a deep bow.

“My lady.”

“Have you no greeting for me, my friend?” Thor laughed, throwing open his arms.

“I have no words.” Sif stepped into his embrace. “What have you done, Thor?”

“Nice to see you too.” Loki crossed his arms over his chest.

“You sound like Loki and you look like Loki, but you cannot be him because he remains in exile.” She said carefully.

“It is Loki and his exile has been repealed.” Frigga touched Sif’s shoulder lightly. “Leave us to our reunion and I will answer your questions later.”

“Yes, my lady.” Sif stiffened, shot Loki one more suspicious glance then disappeared into the depths of the castle.

“Tonight we will feast and I will make a speech.” Frigga declared. “But until then, I think it would be best if both of you stayed out of sight.”

“My rooms.” Loki rubbed a hand over his eyes, already weary. “Are they still intact?”

“Just as you left them.” She assured him.

“That’s where we will go then. There are ways to get there unseen.”

His magic cloaked their passage, clamoring over his skin as if eager to prove its worth again. He hesitated at the door, then resigned himself and pushed it open. Everything remained unchanged as if three years had never passed. A book remained splayed open on his desk. He read the page, trying to recall what he had been looking for. He squinted in the dark to make out the words. With a wave of his hand, thick drapes parted and windows unused for years streamed light into every crevice.

“I’ve never seen it this way.” Thor tilted his face up to the sun.

“I refuse to acknowledge any symbolism,” Loki hooked his chin over Thor’s shoulder. “but it doesn’t fit me anymore. This room.”

“Maybe it will again.” But Thor sounded dubious and Loki was inclined to agree.

“Well, I suppose I’m entitled to a whole new suite of rooms.” He laughed without humor. “How long has the princess’ chambers gone empty? I don’t think Mother ever had the use of them.”

“You are not a princess.” Thor corrected. “You remain a Prince and these are a Prince’s room.”

“Then we should knock down the wall between your rooms and mine. What use do we have for two separate spaces?”

“We can sleep in mine for now.” Thor turned into Loki’s loose embrace. “Everything will be fine.”

“No matter how many times you repeat that phrase, it will not make it so.”

“There will be battles enough in the coming days. Why create them before they begin?”

A knock sounded at the door before Loki could come up with a pithy answer to that question. They exchanged a wary glance, before Thor stalked to the door.

“Who comes?”

“It’s Sif, you dullard. Open up.”

Thor threw the door open, ushering her inside. She too turned her face instinctively up to the light, before turning to face Loki.

“Ask your questions, Sif.” He smiled grimly. “I will answer.”

“Why have you come back?”

“Because Thor and my mother asked me too.” He shrugged. “I missed my home.”

“You were exiled.”

“That’s not a question.” 

“They never told us your crime.”

“Never?” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Father did not wish to tarnish my reputation.” Thor cut in.

“No, of course not.” Loki rubbed a hand over his face.

“Explain.”

“Should I?” Thor shrugged, then nodded. “I was...intimate with Thor.”

“And?” She waved a hand expectantly.

“There is no and.” He frowned. “That was the sin. That was why I was exiled.”

“That was it?”

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think I had done?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Loki. You’re capable of nearly every kind of viciousness. I had assumed it was something bloody and terrible.” She stared at him. “We all knew about you and Thor. It was...less than appealing, but I never imagined that was why.”

“You knew?” Thor cut in, thunderstorms clear in his eyes. “How could you have known?”

“Loki may be the God of Secrets, but you, my friend, are God of the Obvious.” Sif smiled at him. “We read it in your face, in the way you held yourself. The way after he was gone, you were so thoroughly gutted. Do you really think your friends so blind?”

Loki sat down hard on the edge of his bed. They’d known. He tried to remember how Thor’s friends had acted during that year. Had they been distant or disgusted? Nothing came to mind. The Warriors Three had never been his biggest fans, but neither had they acted as though he were committing some grave sin. Mostly they’d teased him, harassed him a little. What he now knew to be the normal treatment of a younger sibling among friends.

“Father always told me it was wrong even to look.” He choked out, barely aware of Sif and Thor. “I knew I walked a fine line, always.”

“Look at what?” Sif was suddenly in front of him, the scent of her leather armor filling his nose. “Loki, what did he tell you?”

“At men. I was...wrong. From the beginning.” He shivered. “And then Thor...I ruined him. Corrupted him.”

“What madness is this?” She sank to her knees, searching his face. “Tell me that this is a lie, Loki.”

“Why would I lie?” He looked at her, bewildered. “Father cast me out for sleeping with Thor, but he knew I was gay from the beginning and tried to make me change.”

“It must be a lie for I cannot imagine...” For the first time in many years, Sif touched him without violence, her calloused hand cupping his chin, “I do not know what has happened here, my prince, but you have been served grave injustice. Your own Mother is of the Vanir and they indulge in love of their siblings. What is more, I have pledged my heart to a woman and none have spoken any ill of this.”

“You what?” Thor asked, but neither Sif nor Loki looked to him. Loki was lost in the softened lines of her face, the kindness of her gaze. There was no lie there, no taunt. Sif was ever honest.

“Perhaps it is fine for women, but not for men.” Loki said softly.

“I do not know of any other male couples, but that does not mean it’s wrong.” Sif squeezed his knee. “Your wise Mother clearly knows that this is error. She will make her speech tonight. When your Father returns it will be to a brave new world. I will speak in a few ears before then.”

“You’re a good friend, Sif.” He said around the lump in his throat. “I cannot...thank you. I wish we had spoken of this sooner.”

“Who knows what would have been said? We were children. Now we are men and women.” She rose to her feet. “Time moves ever forward and with it comes new knowledge.”

“You should know that we...” Loki looked to Thor, who smiled brightly. “We got married while I was in exile.”

“What?” She rounded on Thor, punching him hard on the shoulder. “And we were not invited?”

“It was a private ceremony.” Loki cut in, some of his humor returning. “Very private.”

“We will have a party.” Thor rubbed at his arm, but his smile was undimmed. “If not in Asgard, then in our Midgard exile. They have excellent liquor and food.”

“Darcy would love you.” For the first time Loki let himself imagine the collision of his two worlds without fear. 

By the time Sif had left to take care of the details left in her keeping, hope had treacherously kindled in Loki once more, flickering merrily alongside his refound magic. He let Thor talk, leaning heavily into his husband’s side. When the time came for them to leave their rooms, he almost wished he did have his old armor on. He felt too vulnerable by half.

“We’ll wait in the antechamber.” Thor guided him with a hand on the small of his back. “Mother will doubtlessly want to make our entrance dramatic.”

“Doubtless.” Loki tried not to think about the last time he had strode through this hall. He’d been in shackles then.

So close to the head table, they could easily see their mother stand and hold out her hands for silence. Loki drew in deep even breaths, refusing to hyperventilate. 

“My people, this morning I imagined that this feast would be as many other feasts before it. Good wine, good food and excellent friends.” A cheer went up, deafening in its strength. The hall was near capacity then. “But only this afternoon, a new reason to feast has been brought before us. Your prince, my beloved son, has at last decided on a spouse.”

The hall erupted in wild cheers and not a few catcalls that broke the hall into laughter. Frigga watched them all with a patient smile.

“Many of you have noticed that Thor is often been gone from our halls of late. He has spent many patient hours winning over his beloved. The tale of what he has done will be his to share. I can only tell you that he has earned the right to his love many times over and been won over in return. So eager were they that they chose to be married in a private ceremony far from our eyes.” She smiled, shaking her head at their folly and Loki had a sudden sinking sensation about what she was about to say. “I respect their choice, but I hope that they and you will indulge me in overseeing the traditional handfasting. What say you?”

The crowd roared. Loki reached for Thor’s hand.

“She’s crazy.” He muttered as Thor’s fingers closed around his.

“I find myself in agreement,” Thor tried to laugh, but the edge of nerves were undeniable, “what is she playing at?”

“Come forward,” Frigga turned to them, arms outstretched.

“Fucking hell.” Loki turned to Thor. “Well. Want to get married again before we get run out of town?”

“It cannot hurt.”

They stepped forward together. The hall went deathly silent. Loki felt the eyes of the entirety of Asgard nobility on him and it brought back every terrible teenage trait he had managed to shed since his exile to Midgard. He straightened his spine and looked defiantly back them, a smirk curling the edges of his lips.

“Traitor!” Someone called out.

“Trickery!” Another and that was enough to begin the cascade of accusations and catcalls that devolved into near mayhem.

“Silence!” A mighty bellow rang through the hall. Loki looked to their mother, but she stood passively by, a smile on her lips.

It was Sif, having leapt from her seat to the top of a table. She put her hands to her hips and surveyed the hall.

“Here stand before you the Princes of Asgard.” She spoke again into the hush she had created. “The men to whom you swore allegiance. You know not the whys of Loki’s parting nor of his return. What right have you to judge what you do not begin to understand? I swear on my honor as a warrior that he has come before all of you with honest intentions in his mind and love in his heart. Who among you can say the same?”

“Hear, hear!” Fandral stepped up next to her, slinging a companionable arm around her shoulders, “Too long have our Princes been gone from this hall. Shame on those of you who would greet them as anything less than returning warriors.”

“Or newlyweds!” Volstagg called.

“Perform the handfasting, my Lady,” Sif turned, bowing low before Frigga.

“You cannot mean to marry one brother to another!” A blond youth shouted, “This is profane!”

“We are not brothers.” Loki said firmly.

“Loki...” Thor put a hand on his shoulder, but Loki shrugged him away.

“This is a night for the truth, is it not?” Loki asked the hall, which muttered back reluctantly, a few nods to be seen. “I was not known for truth, but like so many things, I like to think that I have grown out of such petty habits.

“I was not born Loki Odinson,” the words came unbidden, pouring out of him and leaving him uncomfortably exposed to the crowd, “out of great and cruel kindness, Odin King rescued me from my cradle as a spoil of war. Once I bore another name, lost to time.”

He shivered violently, the spasm throwing off the pale skinned disguise given to him by his father. The shouts returned with vigor now, the crowd tilting towards violence.

“A Jotun!” “Kill it!”

“Enough.” Thor touched the back of Loki’s neck, the Aesir skin reasserting itself.

“I am Jotun,” Loki acknowledged. His magic bolstered his voice, projecting it to every corner of the room, “but I am also the prince you have always known. Jotun and Aesir. This was Odin King’s vision. That I should be a bridge between our people. It was a good vision. Perhaps one day it will even become reality.

“But it should be clear that Thor and I could no more be brothers than a cat and a dog. That we were raised together should be no deterrent. Many among you have married cousins and foster-siblings,” He picked a few key people out from the crowd, holding eye contact until they looked away. “Now. If there are no further objections, I should like to get married. Again.”

He waited for the inevitable protests about their gender, but none was forthcoming. Perhaps too many revelations at one time had stumped their mead-laden minds. Or perhaps, just perhaps, Sif had been right and this was not such a strange notion to their people.

“Clasp wrists,” Frigga said quietly.

As if he might drown otherwise, Loki reached for Thor’s right wrist and was immeasurably grateful for his husband’s fingers returned the grasp. He lifted his eyes to meet Thor’s gaze and let the rest of the hall disappear. It was all too easy to imagine being in the cramped apartment bathroom, Thor’s blood staining his fingers as they performed their own quiet ceremony. 

“I hold before you the bond of marriage,” Frigga held up a long braided cord the color of blood, “with this cord has every royal couple been brought together since Asgard’s founding. It represents not only the commitment of these two people to each other, but of their bond to this land and its people.”

She began to wrap the soft rope around their joined hands and wrists in intricate knots,

“With this cord, you are bound. With the forbearance of your ancestors, you are bound. With your promises, you are bound. Your bondage can be sweet ease or heavy burden, but may it never go slack. May your trials and tribulations bring you only closer. May your hardships be halved and you joys doubled.

“Loki of Midgard, Asgard and Jotun, will you cleave to this man?”

“I will,” he spoke softly, intimately, but his words would echo through the halls still amplified with magic. He wanted them to ring through these walls for eternity, reminding the proud warriors that it was he who had claimed their prized son.

“Thor Odinson of Asgard, will you cleave to this man?”

“I will,” Thor boomed, his broadest smile in place.

“Then let it be known that these two are forever bound, let none attempt to sever them. Only the hand of death may untie the knots that hold them together.” Frigga laid a soft hand over their joined hands. “What say you, Asgard?”

There was a frightening moment of silence. Then the Warriors Three let out a might bellow that echoed through hall. The lords and ladies of Asgard came to their feet in cheers. The smell of mead and spilled ale filled the air.

“All hail the Princes of Asgard!” Sif yelled into the fray.

“All hail!” The cry was repeated until the mighty ruckus dissolved into all the chaos of a battle victory feast.

“Was this the homecoming you imagined?” Thor asked in a low, laughing rumble.

“How could it be?” Loki leaned into him for a brief moment, steadying himself. “I don’t have that good of an imagination.”

They never got a chance to sit after that, a long line of well wishers and suspicious eyes wanted their attention. Many mugs of ale were pressed into their hands and after a third, Loki used magic to empty them. He’d never had a head for strong brews and the last thing he needed was to spend the night in a drunken stupor.

“What are you two still doing here?” Sif clucked her tongue as midnight slipped passed. “Off with you.”

“Yes, my lady,” Loki offered her a deep bow and rose to find her eyebrows near her hairline.

“If I had known that all I had to do was stick up for you to win such friendship, I would have done so a long time ago.”

“You always had my respect if not my kindness,” he brushed a kiss over her cheek, “but perhaps you were right. We are not children any longer. Sleep well, Lady Sif.”

“And you, my prince.” She clapped him on the arm.

They exited discreetly, winding their way through the corridors of their youth. It reminded Loki of hiding games and later, silent trysts. The marble under his feet, magic singing in his veins and Thor by his side gave a heady nostalgia.

“We never have to move in secrecy again,” Thor said quietly as if reading Loki’s mind. 

“What if I want too?” Loki teased, “There was something exciting about it.”

“You remember that time very differently than I,” but there was a smile lingering on Thor’s lips.

“I think I will still sneak sometimes. It’s in my nature.”

“Not tonight.”

“No. I will have to live up to my first wedding night, won’t I? All my attention will be quite focused.”

Spread across the soft red sheets of Thor’s bed, Loki could remember a dozen, furtive stolen moments. Stolen kisses and caresses, repressed groans and words wielded like knives. Together they wiped away the memory of that fevered year, taking the kind of care with each other that only long time lovers could.

Afterwards, sweating and laughing, Thor nuzzled against Loki’s neck, then fell headlong into sleep. Loki missed their terrible, rickety, too small bed that forced them into tight proximity at night. Defiantly, he ignored the vast empty space of the mattress and used Thor’s chest as his pillow. Only the familiar thrum of that steady heart coaxed him to sleep.

He might only have been asleep an hour when a deep chill woke him. With great effort, he remained still so as not to betray his waking. A bit of wood creaked almost imperceptibly. In an instant, Loki gathered his magical strength and like a loyal pet it rose up, ready for his bidding. Carefully, he turned and opened his eyes.

“Have you come to kill me, Odin King?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

The man he once called father regarded him silently from a chair, his great sword naked across his lap. Slowly, Loki sat up, tucking his knees under his chin, a sheet just barely preserving his modesty. Odin sucked in a soft breath.

“So it is true. You carry the worldtree on your back.”

“That is what you’ve come to see? If you like I could rise, so you may see it all. But if you make a move to take it from me, I can promise you that I will not stand for it.”

“When I was far younger, perhaps the age that you are now,” Odin said as if Loki had not spoken, “ I climbed down nearly to the roots of Yggdrassil.”

“I know this story,” Loki interrupted, “or did you think I had forgotten my own heritage in exile?”

“Some you know,” Odin said with deceptive quiet, “but this part of the story you have never heard. Perhaps it was always intended that only you should hear it.”

“I’m listening.” Even as he snuck a hand across the sheets to wake Thor with a caress and a careful press of a finger to his lips. He saw a quick glittering flash of eyes opening and the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

“For nine days I hung and for nine days pressed to the very bark of the worldtree. Nine days of hunger and thirst, not knowing what use my sacrifice would be. On the last day when I was sure that I would die, I left behind my body. I was loosened from time, from reason. I swam the rivers of possibility and what I saw there, I have never forgotten.”

Odin shifted minutely in his chair as if waiting for his audience to speak, but Loki had no patience for such games and stayed mute. Eventually, Odin went on. 

“I saw the death of the worldtree, an end to all things. In ancient books they call it Ragnarok. I saw Midgard cracked open by awesome forces, unleashing a beastly wolf that called itself Fenrir. It battled against the man that I will become and it won, slaying me. A great snake as powerful as a dragon calling itself Jorgumand came for Thor, their destruction mutual and hideous. 

“But worse still, there was a man, who was not a man. The legion of beasts were at his command and he laughed as the worldtree burned. I never learned his name, but his face I would remember for all time. Carved in ivory and filled with bilious hatred. Years beyond reckoning ago was that dream, but I remember that face.

“Can you imagine...” and finally Odin’s voice broke, hoarse and strained, “can you imagine, a day long after when I bent to hug my child, who had grown while I was away at battle and found the features of that man in his face? Can you imagine seeing that kind of evil a beloved son? I plucked you from an icy cradle and watched you turn Aesir in my hand. Raised you, loved you as my own.”

“Am I meant to pity you, old man?” Loki forced down his own shivering fears, the whispers of his unborn children that lingered ever in his ears. “I didn’t ask for rescue, didn’t ask to be made a part of your family. You chose your path and if it did not please you, you could have made short work of my life.”

“I couldn’t kill you. You’re my son.”

“No. I’m not. You stripped that from me along with my magic, my dignity and stability. What part of ripping me away from the only home I’d ever known was supposed to make me less likely to end the world, I wonder.”

“I assumed that without your magic that you would not have the ability,” Odin sighed, “I needed you away from the seat of power. Midgard would be safe for you, perhaps teach you the lessons you needed.”

“So my sexuality was only an excuse for you? What would you have done if I had done as you asked and never acted upon it?”

“I knew you very well, child. You will always do what you are told not to do. I had only to wait for you to act. That you should choose to do so with your brother made the task much easier.”

“Is there an apology forthcoming?” Loki narrowed his eyes.

“I’m an old and weary man, ready for my long rest,” Odin rose.

“I hate you,” Loki gathered the sheet more tightly around his waist, then stood. “I will never forgive you for what you have done to me.”

“But it worked, did it not?” Odin turned from him. All of Loki’s repressed rage bubbled the surface. He wanted nothing more than to kill the man where he stood. Only Thor’s watchful eyes stayed his hand.

“It was a risky experiment,” he hissed instead, “and one that I think you will live to regret.”

But it was too late, Odin was already gone. Thor was on him at once, wrapping Loki in a warm embrace.

“How humiliating,” Loki tried to joke though he could already hear it falling flat, “to think that all of this was some long game and I, a mindless pawn. A sad day for the God of Mischief.”

“You are no pawn to me,” Thor held him still tighter to the point of pain, “you are my beloved. Let the old man go to his long sleep. We will take the throne and rule as we see fit. None of his machinations matter then.”

“They do matter. I thought...how stupid of me. I only thought that I had changed my fate by my own hand.”

“You did,” Thor kissed his forehead, “you did it on your own. Perhaps he put you in that position, but you are too headstrong to be changed by anything, but yourself.”

“And you,” Loki lay back down though he knew he would find no more sleep that night, “I changed for you.”


End file.
